“The heart is always the last one to leave the fight.” – Jay Long
You broke my heart, shattered it into so many pieces that I thought that it would probably never be whole again.
I’m the one who picked up the pieces and put myself back together, piece by piece until the only thing missing was the shard of heart that you took with you.
I knew that I would never get that back, and I thought I would learn to survive. I’d lived before you; there was no reason that I couldn’t remember how to live without you.
But even now, my heart still wants to fight for us.
I’ll find myself waking up in the middle of the night and reaching for you. When my fingers catch air instead of you, I can feel my heart sink into my stomach even though I knew that you weren’t there.
Something funny will happen and I’ll reach for my phone, sure that you’ll find the story as hilarious as I do. But when I type your name, I remember that you aren’t the one I’m supposed to share funny stories with anymore.
When something goes wrong, you’re the only one that I want to console me. I want you to rub my back and tell me that things are going to be okay, that I am strong enough to handle anything.
But I’m still not sure that I’m strong enough to handle life without you in it.
In my head, I know that things are over and I want to let you go.
We broke up. We’re over. We’re done.
But there’s something inside me that won’t let me let go.
That single piece of my heart that’s missing, the piece that you hold with you at all times even if you don’t realize it…that’s what’s keeping me from letting go.
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